


Twisted Soul and Mangled Grace

by TheFallenArchangel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angels Are Watching Over You, Canon Compliant, Guardian Angels, Heaven, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFallenArchangel/pseuds/TheFallenArchangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel doesn't know that Mary Winchester was once certain that angels were watching over her boys. Doesn't know that she murmured it to her sleeping children almost every night before she died. If he did, he'd probably give a bitter little laugh, because he knows he's the only one that can hear Sam, and he's one of the only angels completely incapable of doing anything in the child's defense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The first time Gadreel hears a prayer, his heart breaks, not so much because he cannot leave his cell to answer it, but because of the profound implications that come with the fact that he heard it at all. The fact that an seven year old child, soul already marred by the blood of a demon, is destined for a path nearly as twisted as his own is agony for the angel, and all he can think about is how this is his fault. His very essence aches for Sammy Winchester, so desperate to believe in the good in the world, though he's only really ever known the bad. He doesn't know that Mary Winchester was once certain that angels were watching over her boys. Doesn't know that she murmured it to her sleeping children almost every night before she died. If he did, he'd probably give a bitter little laugh, because he _knows_ he's the only one that can hear Sam, and he's one of the only angels completely incapable of doing anything in the child's defense.

Sam quickly becomes Gadreel's solace, and sometimes he's sure that the call of the child's soul is the only thing keeping him from insanity. The boy prays for his father and brother almost daily, and even frequently asks the angel that cannot answer about the state of his mother, asks God to take care of her. His pleas for the safety of his living family increase though when he learns the truth of hunting. Two years after first hearing Sam's voice, and Gadreel's never heard the boy pray for himself. It's that relentless selflessness that makes him feel as if letting the Serpent into the Garden wasn't quite as inexcusable, if souls as resilient and caring still existed, managing to thrive despite circumstances.

He never tells Abner. He reasons with himself that it's pointless, because what could come from sharing the information? Neither of them could do anything about it, neither could comfort the boy when he was left alone in hotel rooms for days on end at twelve years old while Dean and John went hunting. But it's also that he thinks it would be _wrong_  to share Sam's secrets, and he doesn't think he'd be able to share the human's existence without spilling it all. Surprisingly, the last excuse he considers is Thaddeus. Always listening, he's sure his tormenter would use the information as ammunition, though Gadreel doubted he'd actually hurt any of the Winchesters. He decides the Thaddeus excuse is the most reasonable, so that's the mantra he repeats in his head whenever he lies to his cell mate and only friend as to why his mangled Grace seems to lighten just a little bit for a few minutes almost every day.

"I am just recalling memories of better times brother" He replies when Abner asks yet again. He doesn't like to lie, but he doesn't want to tell the truth either.

He's learning that the more Sam prays and the more he listens, the more he's feeling the human. There are times when Sam just lets his mind wander, and Gadreel will hear the thoughts as if they were an orison. It's an interesting view of humanity, and he dares to hope that maybe he didn't quite ruin them with his mistake.

Gadreel gets more nervous than he'd rather admit to when Sam stops praying around his eighteenth year. He can't help the fear he feels for the boy - man now, he realizes with a jolt - when almost two weeks pass without him hearing anything. He knows Sam's been hunting, and for a horrible while, he wonders if the human's been killed. Though he still has Abner, and Sam is a relatively new sort of company, he can't help but feel like something's missing now, and it almost scares him how contingent he's become on the human. His fears ebb a couple days later when Sam prays again, asking a God who won't answer if he did the right thing leaving his family behind. Gadreel knows from the midnight, one-sided conversations that Sam wanted to go to college, desperately so, but knew his father wouldn't approve. He's not surprised that Sam left, he's actually a little bit proud that the human managed to go his own way, even if it does help to seal the inevitable future waiting for him.

Abruptly, John drops from Sam's prayers, though Dean remains a constant despite the fact that the brothers aren't speaking either. He wants to soothe the unrest he can feel in Sam's soul, bitterness at his father's rejection of him up on learning of his desire for a higher education. If anything, Gadreel relates - which is something he is entirely unused to. He's not used to _understanding_  someone, even his brothers and sisters, the way he does Sam. The memory of his father's departure, his rejection of the children who loved him dearly, all came back in a blinding rush, things he'd tried to keep buried in his own mind, and all he wants to do is tell Sam that it's okay, that it's not his fault. He knows what he needed to hear, what was never said to him, and only wants to keep that crushing weight of guilt off Sam's chest. But there's nothing he can do, and he hates it.

Sam's prayers shift again, and begin to include others. Brady, Zach, and Jessica. They quickly become something of a surrogate family for the young Winchester, and the angel's something close to joyous as he feels Sam soul begin to lighten with every prayer. The boy is happy, almost blissful, in his new life, and it pains Gadreel to know that it won't last. It can't. He's known of Sam's position as the vessel of Lucifer since he first felt his soul, and if anything, Sam's rebellion against his father and brother only confirmed it. None of this knowledge exists for Sam though.

For now, Sam just prays for guidance, asking if proposing to Jessica is the right thing or not.

He's caught by surprise, when only hours after the last prayer, he receives another, asking if leaving with his brother to look for their father is the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Gadreel feels something akin to dread as he realizes the gravity of what's going on. Tonight is the breaking point, the choice that all the angels have known for centuries will truly seal the future. This brings a new conflict upon the former Guardian of Eden, who's always held out an odd sort of hope that when paradise came to Earth, he might find forgiveness with his brothers and sisters, but that thought is missing from his mind now. Now, all he wants is to tell Sam to not climb into that Impala tonight. He wants to get the youth to stay in his apartment with Jessica, to be happy and safe instead of running into the night after his father.

He knows though, even without the prophecy in place, that Sam will leave tonight anyway. It's simply in the Winchester's nature to go looking for his father, just as it was in many of the angels to search for theirs upon his departure. Had he not been imprisoned, Gadreel would've been among them without a doubt. It startles him the slightest bit when he realizes the comparisons he's drawing between himself and Sam, and it alarms him even more when he sees the accuracy in them.

It's in the Impala when Sam's mind begins to wander, eyes tiredly taking in the dark trees on either side of the road as the sky just barely begins to lighten in the east, and Gadreel gets a longer look into the human's thoughts than he's had in awhile. He sees more now of the human than he has since the years of Sam's childhood, and he's intrigued with the differences he finds. Almost gone is the loneliness that he'd harbored as a child, replaced by confidant independance. Also new, the desire to be protected is gone and in it's place is the willingness and almost desire to protect others instead.

Looking past the differences though, Gadreel sees the concern Sam has or his father, more than he'd probably admit if asked. He's nervous about being brought back into the world of the supernatural, he's out of practice after all. And beneath it all is the slightest mixture of anger and bitterness as being pulled back into this.

While Sam has always been a source of comfort, Gadreel is not used to being connected to the boy's soul for this long. He finds he rather likes it, the soothing cool of the irregular soul a brilliant contrast against the blistering heat of his Grace, the slightly unsteady thrum of humanity giving him the only hope he has. He grows used to it, letting lose a low sigh as he feels the human start to slip away. The withdraw leaves something like an ache behind, and suddenly being alone in his mind seems incredibly lonely.

The next few days are some of the worst in the angel's recent memory. Thaddeus seems especially enthusiastic about his work, more so than usual, and Gadreel finds himself desiring the ability to lose consciousness. He tries, like he always does and has, to keep a straight face and remain unaffected by it all, doing what he can to lend his strength to Abner. It is now when he truly becomes certain that Sam is holding him together.

The prayers now are shorter, more direct, laced with some of the old instinct Gadreel came to expect while the human was hunting, soft pleas to keep Jessica safe in his absence, prayers for his brother left unspoken due to fear or ridicule from his older sibling. They aren't a lot, but they're a distraction that the angel's grateful for.

And then he hears Sam's soul cry out in fear and agony and rage. He's never felt such a volatile wave of emotions from Sam, who usually stays pretty level-headed. None of that steadiness is there anymore, and the human is swallowed up by a tide of guilt. Repetitions of 'I never should've left her' and 'it's all my fault' are all the Winchester can think about for days, the crescendo of self-condemnation getting to the point where Gadreel is close to trying to tune the human out, the pain radiating from the vitiated soul almost maddening.

Sam's praying falters, and Gadreel knows it's because he's angry at God. How could he not be? He'd poured his faith into him since he was capable of doing so, had always believed and prayed, even specifically to keep Jessica safe, and yet it had all been for naught. Jessica was dead, the thing was still out there, and his father was missing. In truth, Gadreel expects a breakdown on the Winchester's part. Instead, Sam throws himself into hunting, into looking for John so that he can get his revenge.

Despite everything in his life, the youngest Winchester has never been so lost, and it's harrowing to feel the rawness of the boy's soul and not recoil.

And slowly, the ache just becomes a part of who Sam is, pain becomes just another trait. Eventually he starts praying again, though it's with considerably less faith and conviction as it had been previously. As quickly as John vanished from Sam's prayers, he reappears in them, in midnight pleas for the protection and safety of his family. The life he'd made for himself in college vanishes, and he becomes again a hunter - fueled by the desire for revenge, much like his own father had been. The Winchester brothers work cases, and they save people, and Gadreel knows that the fact that lives are saved in what they do is the only thing that keeps Sam going.

One time, he feels the true impact of the hurt and anger that's been building inside the human since childhood, a burst of raw and primal emotion unleashed by a spirit. It's something bewildering and terrifying, and Gadreel finds himself wondering how he didn't feel the darkness and anger that'd been pooling just below the surface for twenty odd years. To him it doesn't matter that they were thrown out of proportion with Sam's restraint, and all he feels as the human shoots his own brother with rock salt, all he sees is a release of everything kept hidden in an attempt to not burden or upset others. Though the hunter later claims that he didn't mean what he said, that it wasn't real, Gadreel knows better. He knows that it's always been there, suppressed by the stronger desire in Sam to keep those he loves safe, even from himself.

It's been almost six months since Jessica's death before the brothers have a falling out. Gadreel had seen it coming, has felt the anger and desperation Sam held with him, using hunting as a staple to pass the time until he could find his father. He also knows that Dean was apparently perfectly content hunting and not looking for John, it was a thought Sam tended to dwell on for extended periods while the Impala roared over interstates and backroads. So the angel sees it as the breaking of something that's been building for awhile now.

He's both proud and concerned as Sam walks away from the Impala.

* * *

 


End file.
